


In New York You Can Be A New Man

by s0r0hj0ne



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 12th Night AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, She's the Man AU, cross dressing, eventual trans Alex, kind of, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0r0hj0ne/pseuds/s0r0hj0ne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodosia Hamilton (wait for it) arrives in New York City, hoping to study under  her well-earned scholarship. Upon arriving, she finds that the scholarship is actually for a man. Taking on the name Alexander, and adopting masculine mannerisms, she will do whatever it takes to pursue her dream. Like they say, in New York you can be a new man.</p><p>Basically, what would happen if, Alex was born female.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alexander Hamilton

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FancifulFollies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulFollies/gifts).



> Hello, this is gonna follow all the songs, it will be quite angsty (sorry) as it will follow most of the musical's timeline. It's unbeta'd, so there should be a tonne of mistakes, please feel free to point those out to me. Please comment if you have the time, I would love to know if I should continue with this.

New York was different from Charlestown. Where Nevis was quiet and relatively calm, New York was loud and harsh. Instead of the gentle tinkling of wind chimes, she now heard the endless ringing of carriage bells and stamping of hooves. The trees no longer danced to the tranquil sea breeze. In fact, almost all the trees were replaced with stationary buildings that sneered down the public. Somehow, Theodosia felt right at home.

She had arrived at the harbour a few hours ago. It had been a tedious trip from the west indies. Currently, she was waiting for her carriage to take her to her lodgings. She continued to look around, there was never a dull corner, everything was filled with colour, whether it be the painted building or the wardrobe of the Americans. She looked down at her dress, plain, dirty and frayed at the edges. The rest of her attire were in a similar state. If she wanted to meld in, she would need to find a method to buy more clothes.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, her carriage finally arrived, whisking off to an unknown place. The carriage ride was interesting, she didn't have much time to speak with the coachman but she noticed that he had an accent quite different to hers. Well, now that she was in America she guessed that she was the one with the accent. She would need to seek a way to deal with that as well.

After quite literally a bumpy ride, she arrived at her accommodation. It was a wooden structure, not particularly large nor fancy but it would become her home. The coachmen, refused to let her carry her luggage, claiming that he would be quite offended if he let a lady carry around such a heavy package. Theodosia thought this was quite stupid, considering she has been basically carrying it from Nevis to New York. He wouldn't budge, and to be honest, she was too excited to argue with him. When she went inside an ancient man sat, reading the newspaper behind a desk.

"What's your last name?" he asked, his voice clearly disinterested.

"Hamilton," she said her face gleaming with pride.

He gave her an inquisitive eyebrow, placed the open newspaper on his desk and preceded to take out a key from one of its drawers.

"This is the key, your room is up the stairs, and the first room on your right," the man said, once again picking up the newspaper.

"Great, thanks, Mr..."

"Trim... oh and I don't care what you younglings do in your free time, just make sure to be quiet," the man said looking from the side of his paper.

"I don't know what you mean Mr-"

"Good day Mrs Hamilton," the man said with a finality without giving Theodosia a chance to correct him.

The stairs were a little creaky, but she had seen much worse in her time. At least, it was quite spacious, so it seemed were the corridors. Behind her, she could hear the heaving of the coachmen dragging her luggage behind him.

She arrived at her room which was thankfully quite close to the lobby. Inserting the key into the hole was quite a lot harder than she thought.

"Here, I'll get the door," he coachmen said. Grabbing the key from her hand and seamlessly sliding the key inside. It seemed that there was a trick to this, another task that she would need to learn.

Her room was quite ... nice, yeah , the wall paint was peeling off, the room had a slight damp smell but all together it was better than she would have ever expected. There were a desk and a chair near the window, and there was plenty of light illuminating the place. It had everything she needed.

"Thanks for all the help," Theodosia said, lifting her bag effortlessly off the floor. The coachmen gaped at her for a second before catching himself and returning to a neutral expression.

"My pleasure, ma'am, it was all my pleasure," he said while exiting out of her room. "I hope you and your brother, much enjoy New York."

"Thank you, so much for your service," Hamilton responded, then closed the door before she realised what he had said.  
Struggling to open the door, she flicked the keys clockwise and anticlockwise until it finally unlocked.

"What do you mean brother?", by the time she had peeped out, he was nowhere in sight. She closed the door again, mimicking the opposite movement she used to open the door.

Theodosia was ecstatic, this wasn't the first time that she had moved, nor would it be the first time that she was alone. However, her brain was fired up, there was so much that she needed to write down.

Ignoring the luggage, left in the middle of the floor. She went over to the desk. It seemed to be in prime condition. She trailed her fingers over what seemed to be a mahogany frame. It was old but beautiful. She sat in the chair, it was quite comfortable but the desk was too high to reach. Obviously, this was made for a person with a larger frame. Maybe next time she would place a pillow, that way she would be elevated and her bum would be quite comfortable.

The desk had two drawers, the first drawer held some parchment, a quill and some ink. She opened the lower drawer and found a series of letters from King's college... all addressed to Mr Hamilton.

Suddenly, the old man's and the coachmen's comments made sense.

It was not her that got the scholarship, but a man.

It's a man's world, she didn't know why she thought that New York would be any less discriminatory.

It's okay, she could do this. If they wanted a man, they will get a man.

She opened the envelope, it was one that she had to present to administration. The question read, "What's your name?"

She dipped the ink onto her quill, if she does this there was no way to get out. She took a deep breath and placed ink to parchment. With a swish of the wrist, she wrote the first two words since arriving in New York.

"Alexander Hamilton"


	2. Aaron Burr, Sir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to A_Ham_Ster, congratulations on graduating. I wish you the best of luck for the future.

Aaron Burr liked his alcohol. He didn't particularly enjoy the taste of the liquid nor the light buzz he would feel after consuming a decent amount.

It was the burn. It reminded him that he was alive, and how little time he had left. It was rather morbid, but he couldn’t really say that he had the best luck.

On a Friday night, the pub was a ruckus. The first week was always the hardest; many had to get accommodated to such a different style of learning. By the end of the week without a drop of alcohol in their system, they would all run along to the closest locations for some well-earned pints with their mates.

It was an opportunity to meet new people, students from all different colleges as they connected over a mutual love of beer.

Aaron however, sat by himself. He was by no means unsocial, in fact, he spent hours every week, talking and networking. Doing anything that needed to be done for him to rise to the top. He just preferred to spend his free time alone instead of downgrading himself into a mindless fool in front of his so-called friends.

Well, he was sitting by himself, until someone decided to slide up against the empty stool next to him.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, Sir?"

Aaron was facing the entrance, his back against the person who just asked the question. He slowly turned his head so he was facing down at his drink and breathed a deep sigh, his whole body exaggerating the motion. He didn't appreciate the company.

"That depends, who's asking?" he answered still gazing down at his drink.

"My name is Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service," Alexander said as he extended his hand out. "Sir, I have been looking for you."

This is when Aaron decided to turn his head and get a good look at the man. First of all, he was small, incredibly small, his large clothes looked as if they should drag him down. Second of all, the cuffs of his shirt were pulled up, showing that his hands were significantly darker than his forearms. For someone so slight; it seemed as if this man spent a lot of time outside. Lastly, his eyes. They glowed, even in the dim light of the pub. They were filled with both childlike wonder and the intelligence of a genius. It was as though he was gazing up at the stars. They were brilliant; he could trace the constellations and still not understand what lay above.

Aaron was never good at reading people, nor did he care so much for individuals but something about this man intrigued him.

Aaron let a small smile escape as he clasped the man hand. "I'm getting nervous-"

"Sir, I heard your name at Princeton..." It was simply quite amazing how the man's whole body moved as he talked. He talked so fast Aaron's intoxicated brain only heard fragments of what he was actually saying. Something about "study", "punched" and "financials". ‘Oh’

"You punched the Bursar," Aaron interrupted.

"Yeah," Alexander's face turning a sweet rouge. He was only fazed for a moment until he went back to talking at a rapid pace.

Aaron resigned himself just to watch the young man talk until Alexander stopped, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he had just asked. 'Quick, Aaron think, what did he just ask... Damn, I'm too drunk for this'. He thought back to the conversation that they just held... Oh right, how did he graduate earlier than his peers?

"It was my parents' dying wish before they passed," Aaron finally said his smile wiping off his face.

"You're an orphan?" the man asked. 'Maybe this will slow the man down,' Aaron thought.

"Of course, I'm an orphan, god I wish..."

'Then again, maybe not,' Aaron thought a smile returning to his face as this man kept ranting.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Aaron interrupted.

"That would be nice," Alexander's voice went quiet as if he was shy all of a sudden... or perhaps embarrassed?

Aaron raised his hand to the bartender and pointed it at Alexander. The bartender nodded and starting filling up a cup.

Aaron turned back around to look at Alexander. "While we're talking let me offer you some free advice"

Alexander's whole attention was on him; there was something uncomfortable about this feeling, it made his heart faster and his skin tingle.

"Talk less," Aaron said.

"What?!" he seemed confused and outraged at the same time; the look was far too endearing for Burr's comfort.

Burr's hand went to Alexander's face and tilted it slightly up so they were staring looking straight at each other.

"Smile more,"

Alexander's face morphed into a smile, his teeth poking out in between in his pink lips.

"Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for."

"You simply cannot be serious!" Alexander’s face fell.

"You wanna get ahead?"

Alexander stared at Burr for a second and then nodded.

"Good, because fools who run their mouth off wind up dead," Aaron said with sincerity.

The doors of the pub slammed open. Aaron turned to face the entrance and saw the silhouette of three figures.

"YO YO YO YO YO WHAT TIME IS IT?" a voice called out, over the top of everyone else.

'You can't be serious,' Aaron thought. ‘Maybe there was a way to escape John Laurens and his entourage’.

"SHOWTIME!"

'Too late' Aaron turned back onto his drink and placed his hand on his forehead, hoping it will do something to minimise a certain headache that was about to impede him.

"Like I said," Aaron said looking pointedly at the crew that was at the centre of the pubs attention.

Almost every week they would come in, introduce themselves and there would be an uproar. Almost everyone wanted a chance to be a part of their mismatched group.

There was John Laurens, notorious for being the son of Henry Laurens. Lafayette, the French immigrant and Hercules Mulligan, a tailor's apprentice.

Perhaps, in this corner, facing away from the door, they wouldn't realise that he was there.

"Ho ho ho, if it isn't Aaron Burr," John said, turning the attention towards Burr. John ran up to Aaron, completely ignoring Alexander and put an arm around his shoulders.

Aaron felt his cheeks redden. He sneaked a glimpse at Alexander, who seemed quite amused.

Aaron sighed. "What do you want John?"

"Hey, what it I just wanted to learn something from the prodigy of Princeton College," John says, playfully punching Aaron's arm.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "That would be the day," Burr mumbled under his breath.

"Come on, Burr, I may be abrasive but at least I stand up for what I believe is right," John replied, removing his arm from Burrs shoulder. "Burr, the revolution is imminent, what do you stall for?"

"If you stand for nothing, Burr," a voice said softly from behind them. "What will you fall for?"

Alexander's words cut him into fractions. His brain shattered into shards; he never questioned his ideology, so why should he start now?  
That didn't stop him though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, I really appreciate the feedback. Thank you so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Was it good??? If you have any idea's please tell me, by either commenting or contacting me on Tumblr @ham-and-mac-sandwich. 
> 
> I hope that you have a wonderful day.  
> Yours Sarah Jane


End file.
